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Anfwer to an EPIGRAM printed in the St. JAMES'S EVENING-POST, SAT. DEC. 12. und ending

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Admire a VIRGIL, and difdain a POPE.

F none must be admir'd but poets born,

Admire a HOMER, and a VIRGIL fcorn; Admire a HORACE, and contemn BOILEAU; Admire a DRYDEN, and defpife a Rowe. But if on fuch as these with fcorn we look ; What must be done to W---D, T---D, C---k ? Scorn were too little from each honeft BRITON; These should be pump'd, duck'd, pillory'd, pift, and fh--ton.

T

Grubftreet Journal, No 52.

HE following copy of verfes by Mr.POPPY,may ferve as an answer to feveral perfons, who have abus'd our fociety; and particularly to a RENEGADO, who has been very illiterately fcurrilous in an obscure weekly paper.

UIXOTE once met a tumbrel on his way,

Confin'd in which two LIBYAN lions lay.

(Poetic profe, profaic rhyming strains,

Had crack'd, you know, the poor knight errant's brains.)
Th' unwilling keeper, at the knight's command,
Unbars one lion's cage with trembling hand;
DIEGO and SANCHO could not bear the fight,
But wifely fought their safety in their flight,
The lion rous'd, put forth his gaping jaws,
Lick'd his red eyes, and ftretch'd his dreadful paws.
The knight undaunted rais'd his crooked nofe,
And challeng'd him aloud in verfe and profe.
The noble beaft furvey'd with scornful grin
His hollow eyes, and rueful length of chin:

Much

Much wond'ring at his face, his language more ;
Such face ne'er feen, nor language heard before;
At length determin'd not to fight, nor rail,
He flowly turn'd him round, and fhew'd his tail,
At this the knight in high romantic strain,
Defies him o'er and o'er, but all in vain :
Regardless of his noife, the generous beast
Lay foftly down, and clos'd his eyes to rest.
The fugitives return'd, tho' fafe, well scar'd,
To them the knight his valour thus declar'd.

"

This voice and look has quell'd the lion's rage;
He turns his back, and dreads to leave his cage.
Nought can his daftard foul to arms excite,
• He knows I'm capable, and dares not fight.
The keeper whifper'd DIEGO in the ear:
• This valiant knight has neither wit, nor fear,
The lion chang'd a tragedy for farce,
And in plain tokens bade him kiss his --

An EPIGRAM.

T7ELL, faid APOLLO, ftill'tis mine
To give the real laurel:

W

For that, my POPE, my fon divine,
Of rivals ends the quarrel.

But gueffing who would have the luck

To be the B---day fibber;

I thought of DENNIS, TIBBALD, DUCK,
But never dreamt of CIBBER.

Grubftreet Journal, No 53.

W

An EPIGRAM.

THY, envious bards, fuch clamous will you raise, Against your elder brother crown'd with bays? Has it not ancient, annual custom been,

For wreaths of bays t'adorn old posts with green ?

ANO

ANOTHER.

THAT! CIBBER laureate made! O heav'ns forbear,
All ye NON-JURORS, if you can to swear.

WH

From the NEW-YORK GAZETTE, Nov. 2. The following Lines were put over the Door of the General Court, viz.

OUR father's comfelves when in the defart

And bleft themselves when in the defart free
And fhall their fons, thro' treachery or fear,
Give up that freedom, which has coft fo dear?
Whate'er pretence our enemies may frame,
The man is alter'd, but the cause the same.
From CAESAR's court fhall CATO fawning come,
Be fure that CATO is no friend to ROME.

A ftranger paffing by, took a piece of chalk, and writ underneath the lines following.

T

HEIR father's crofs'd the wide atlantick fea,

To be in defarts, from their deferts free;
And fhall their fons with glaring infolence
Support a cause fo void of common fenfe?
Whate'er pretence this ftubborn people frame,
The cafe is alter'd, but the men the fame.
From CAESAR's court fhould a new ruler come,
Be fure they'll ftarve him, as they've others done.

Gruba

Grubftreet Journal, N° 54. ODE for NEW-YEAR'S DAY 1731, written by COLLEY CIBBER, Efq; Poet Laureate, fet to Mufick by Mr. ECCLES, and fung at Court by Mr. HUGHES, Accompany'dwith Inftrumental Mufick.

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RECITATIVO.

NCE more, the ever circling Sun,
Through the celeftial figns has run :
Again old time inverts his glafs,"
And bids the annual feafons pafs.

The youthful fpring fhall call for birth,
And glad, with ap'ning flow'rs, the earth;
Fair fummer load, with fheaves, the field;
And golden fruit fhall autumn yield:

Each, to the winter's want, their stores fhall bring,
'Till warmer genial funs recall the fpring.

AIR.

Ye grateful BRITONS, blefs the year,
That kindly yields increase;
While plenty, that might feed a war,
Enjoys the guard of peace.

Your plenty, to the skies, you owes
Peace is your monarch's care:

Thus bounteous JovE and GEORGE below,
Divided empire fhare.

RECITATIVO.

BRITANNIA, pleas'd, looks round her realm to fee
Your various caufes of felicity!

To glorious war, a glorious peace fucceeds,.
(For most we triumph when the farmer feeds.)
Then truly are we great, when peace fupplies
Our blood, our treasure drain'd by victories.

Turn

Turn, happy BRITONS, to the throne, your eyes,
And in the royal offspring fee

How amply bounteous providence fupplies
The fource of your felicities.

AIR.

Behold! in ev'ry face imperial graces shine!
All native to the race of GEORGE and CAROLINE:

In each young hero we admire
The blooming virtues of his fire;
In each maturing fair we find
Maternal charms, of fofter kind.

RECITATIVO.

In vain, through ages paft has PHOEBUS roll'd,
E're fuch a fight bleft ALBION cou'd behold;
Thrice happy mortals, if your state you knew!
Where does the globe so bleft a nation fhew?
All that of you, indulgent heav'n requires,
Is loyal hearts, to reach your own defires.
Let faction then, her self-born views lay down,
And hearts united, thus addrefs the throne.

AIR.
Hail! royal CAESAR, hail!
Like this, may ev'ry anual fun
Add brighter glories to thy crown,
"Till funs themselves fhall fail.

RECITATIVO.

May heav'n thy peaceful reign prolong,
Nor let, to thy great empire's wrong,
Foreign, or native foes prevail.

CHORUS.

"Hail! royal CAESAR, hail!
"Like this, may ev'ry annual fun
"Add brighter glories to thy crown,
" "Till funs themselves fhall fail.

Grub

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